


Hairspray and Headbanging

by Sashataakheru



Category: Australian Comedy RPS, First Tuesday Book Club (TV) RPS, The Chaser RPS
Genre: 1980s, Genderswap, Multi, crackfic, crossovers, hair metal, historical fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-21
Updated: 2010-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-07 10:50:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1984, and the stage is set for a double bill of Aussie hair metal bands, on tour in Britain as they (mostly figuratively) rape and pillage their way across the land, the Mutant Love Dolls and their support act, the Crawling Japanese Robots. But is the UK really big enough for the both of them or will it all end up a huge disaster?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hairspray and Headbanging

**Author's Note:**

> **Ze band line-ups** (because I am pedantic like that)  
> Crawling Japanese Robots: Dominic Knight – Rusty Sprinkles (bass, backing vocals); Chas Licciardello – Mr Fabulous (rhythm guitar); Julian Morrow – Ace Rogue (keyboards/synth, backing vocals); Charles Firth – Marc Saturn (lead vocals, lead guitar); girl!Craig Reucassel – Misti Moon (drums/percussion, backing vocals)
> 
> Mutant Love Dolls: Chris Taylor - Paulie Platinum (drums); Andrew Hansen –Jeffie Diamond (lead guitar, backing vocals); Jennifer Byrne – Kitty Roxx (lead vocals, bass); Andrew Denton – Mikey Topaz (keyboards/synth); girl!Dylan Lewis - Dylan Neptune (rhythm guitar, backing vocals)
> 
> (Unnamed) Others: Marieke Hardy as the witch, Adam Hills as the werewolf, Wil Anderson as the demon

"Come on, Jules, we're on now. Your hair looks fine, okay?" Chas urged as he peered into the dressing room.

Julian scrutinised his appearance. His long hair, dyed a strange yellowy-green colour he had been assured was awesome, had been teased and permed to within an inch of its life and he had lost count of the hair extensions that bulked it out. Mismatching silver earrings dangled from his ears and his make-up was, well, less than subtle. His outfit was supposed to make him look like a robot, but he wasn't quite sure it worked. It was basically a lycra bodysuit with various bits of robot armour attached. Julian only half-regretted spending most of their money on custom-made instruments that looked like futuristic weapons instead of on costumes.

"Just gimme a minute, not quite done," Julian replied, half distracted by fixing his hair and adjusting his chest plate.

Chas entered the room and leant against the dresser. "Jules, you don't have a minute, we're supposed to be out there now!"

He ignored Chas' pleading as he touched up his lipstick, added some more hairspray to his rather extraordinary hair, and adjusted his armour again. Standing back a moment, he still wasn't satisfied and painted another stripe of black eyeliner under each eye, just to emphasise the look. He didn't get another chance to add more as Chas pulled his arm and dragged him towards the stage.

Julian tried not to trip over as Chas dragged him through a rather tight corner and to where the rest of their band was waiting. Craig looked up as they approached and gave Julian a reproving look. Chas wanted to smile at Craig's appearance, but he'd gotten used to it the more they'd played together.

If truth be told, they had become more popular as a support act since Craig had decided to dress as a woman than when he had remained an anonymous – and somewhat androgynous - male drummer. Chas was hardly going to complain when Craig was wearing a pink sparkly dress, a silver glittery tiara, pink knee high platform boots, and a huge pink wig that put everyone else's to shame. He also had gold stars painted on each cheek and gold glittery paint around his eyes and on his lips. It was his best impression of a female android, and it was really rather stunning.

Chas was the only member of the Crawling Japanese Robots who had shunned any sort of robot-like outfit. He had instead dressed in what he described as his Space Native outfit, and sort of looked like some sort of vague Indigenous American dress, but accentuated with sharp spikes, crystals and angular wings. It was also made from a light but solid metallic material, giving the illusion that he was wearing actual metal. He was the only band member with long black hair he let sit down his back. It was because he insisted on wearing a rather extravagant headdress, made of silver, gold, bright feathers, mirrors and bells. His make-up was more like war paint.

"He was doing his hair again. Honestly, he spends more time in make-up than you do, Reuy," Chas said, finally letting go of Julian's arm.

"Julian, look, when I tell you we're on in five minutes, we're on in five minutes. That is not the cue to begin getting your hair done. Christ," Craig said.

"I have a look, guys, I need to get it right," Julian pleaded.

"I never said you can't have a look, just be ready before we're due on stage. Is that really so difficult?" Craig said.

"It's Jules, Craig. He's fussier than you are, and that takes effort," Chas said. "I suppose we'd better get out there, though. They'll go feral if we make them wait any longer."

"Aww, I like it when they go feral. Shows are better. Better energy, you know?" Charles said. He was pacing impatiently and sneaking glances out at the audience, itching to get started. His own outfit was a strangely skin-tight spacesuit, made from white material with diamantes and other jewels sewn into it. A vastly lengthy cape made from feathers of many colours swished around his legs as he walked. He had not been talked out of a ginger wig either, and the tight curls fell down past his elbows.

"Charles, we're the support act. We're not supposed to be more entertaining than the main act. Also, unlike some people, we can't afford to destroy clubs everywhere we go. Now get out there and stop whingeing," Dom said, shoving Charles forward.

Charles got the hint and got ready to go onstage. He took a moment to take in what his band were wearing. The robot costumes were, well, probably closer to spacesuits, but they were the best they could afford and no one seemed to complain about it. Chas had been told to buy his own outfit if he wasn't going to go with the robot outfit, which saved them some money to spend on customised instruments instead. It was easier that way, and they did rather complete the look. There was something awesome about playing a guitar that was shaped like some epic black metal space gun.

* * *

Chas always enjoyed the moment just before they went on. The lights dimmed, the crowed started chanting, and the stage flooded with smoke. He did a final check of his outfit to make sure everything was fine. As their band name was Crawling Japanese Robots, they'd taken on the science fiction theme with gusto and their costumes were all silver and shiny things. Chas had insisted on a replica Godzilla to adorn the stage with them. It had glowing red eyes, it roared, and its arms moved. It could also spew smoke from its mouth, or it used to be able to do so until it stopped working a few shows ago. There hadn't been the time to fix it yet, not while they were so busy on tour. Maybe next month, before they headed over to the Continent for some European shows.

Chas grinned as the lasers began, flickering over the crowd as their excitement grew. The intro theme began to play, a remixed version of a classical piece done mostly with synthesiser, drums, and a bass guitar, and the band took to the stage, revelling in the cheering. And this wasn't even that extravagant an entrance. The main act had all sorts of things they would be using that would make their entrance look amateurish and lame.

Charles always came alive on stage. As shy and awkward as he might seem in private, there was a part of him that took far too much pleasure in being the centre of attention. Chas had always admired his ability to hold a crowd like that.

Craig, in his Misti Moon stage persona, taunted the crowd before he got behind his kit and started the opening drum riff. And then, there was no stopping them as they began playing.

* * *

The crowd did end up going feral, but Charles decided it wasn't his fault. He hadn't meant for their giant Godzilla statue to come crashing down onto the stage. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but it did explode magnificently while managing to avoid setting the whole place on fire, and enough people believed it was part of the act to cheer ecstatically as it fell. Charles, to his credit, kept them going and he had a feeling that the reviews they were going to get were going to be entertaining at the very least, no matter what they thought of the music.

Of course, the roadies would need longer to clear the stage before the main act appeared, but Charles was quite sure everyone there would not remember anything but the giant Godzilla statue falling on the stage, and if that was all he got, well, there were worse fates and Charles was happy to avoid them.

Happily backstage and plied with enough alcohol to drown a horse (some of which he'd nicked from the main act's rider), he lay back contentedly on the nearest couch, still high from performing. Craig joined him, finally able to remove his epic pink wig. Sure, it was worth it for the gig, but shit was it awful to wear. His dress had hitched itself up past his hips, but he hardly cared he was flashing anyone who cared to look at him. Chas and Julian had run off somewhere together, like they usually did after a gig, while Dom was surprisingly absent.

"We didn't bring you along to upstage us, you know," came a voice from the doorway.

Charles looked up and saw Paulie, the drummer for the main act, a band that called themselves the Mutant Love Dolls, glaring at them with displeasure. Charles sat up and smiled, only slightly apologetic for the chaos.

"Hey, I know that, alright? I didn't make that stupid dinosaur fall over. It did that on its own. It was broken anyway. We can't afford the mad props you guys can afford," Charles said.

Paulie approached them. Craig tried not to laugh. It was hard when he looked so ridiculous, with his big white-blonde hair and strangely unsexual outfit that showed off far too much of his hairy chest. He also noticed Jeffie not far behind him, lead guitarist, and wanted to tease him a little, if only because he didn't quite rock the desired look either. He was too skinny, even if he did have an awesome stage presence. Dylan, their other guitarist, couldn't match him, no matter how provocative her outfits were.

"Hey, leave it, guys. We'll get rid of it, okay? Lighten up already. We got 'em pumped for you. Go make 'em feral," Craig said, not bothering to sit up and look at him.

"They're already feral, no thanks to you," Jeffie said, joining his bandmate.

"Jesus, anyone'd think you guys were serious musicians. If glam metal is serious music, I'm a monkey's uncle, alright?" Charles said.

Paulie glared at him and turned to walk away. Jeffie pointed at Charles but couldn't quite think of a come-back. Charles laughed and offered him a beer.

"Charles, lettem be, if they want to ponce about with their serious music, so be it. We're just here for the laughs. I reckon they've forgotten why they started this shit in the first place," Craig said.

Another head appeared from the doorway. Her name was Kitty Roxx, and she was, unlike Craig, a real woman, and she fronted the Mutant Love Dolls. She wore far too much leather for a chick, Craig always thought. Too many collars and spikes and corsets and fucking boots and other things of that nature were constantly part of her stage clothes. Fuck it, once she had even got on stage wielding a series of whips throughout the show. It was all far too erotic for Craig's liking, though it was more because she was far too sexually appealing for a woman of her age. She was also married to the band's keyboardist, a man by the name of Mikey who wore too much spandex and tiger print with his strange multi-coloured mane of hair, and Craig wondered how much he cared that his wife ponced about on stage dressed like a dominatrix as she flirted rather openly with their guitarists. He had heard rumours at after parties that their flirting wasn't just a stage act. Looking at her now, and seeing the look in her eye as she looked at Jeffie, Craig could almost believe those rumours were true.

"Come on, guys, they're ready for us at last. Time to show them how to do a proper metal show," she said.

Jeffie grabbed Paulie by the sleeve and dragged him out, muttering something about it not being worth it and they're the more famous band anyway. Charles laughed as they left and nudged Craig in the ribs.

"Hey, hey, I reckon we showed 'em, hey? Did you see the look on his face? Man, they're so wound up. Loosen up a little, you pricks," Charles said.

Craig chuckled quietly. "Can't find too much fault though. They're the ones with the million dollar limousine, remember? What have we got? A tour bus we rented from one of Chas' cousins that we probably won't get our bond back on."

"Hey, it's not that bad a tour bus. I've been in worse. Should we go watch anyway? I want to see if the crowd end up loving them as much as they loved us," Charles said.

"Gimme a hand up and I'll be right with you," Craig said.

"Yeah, that'd be right, lazy bastard," Charles muttered as he clasped his arm firmly and pulled him to his feet. "Don't forget the wig, you slag."

"Alright, alright, stop your whingeing," Craig said as he grabbed the wig, straightened it out, and put it back on. Grabbing the beer he was drinking, he followed Charles out to the wings to watch the Mutant Love Dolls in their element.

* * *

Julian and Chas had no interest in watching the main act. They were far too occupied getting undressed, now that their obligations were over. They always made sure a room was available, though neither would have baulked at having to do so where others could see them if it came down to it.

The door didn't quite close properly; it squeaked on its hinges and caught against the floor, leaving a sliver of light pouring in. The light flickered on and off, as if no one used this room often enough to bother changing it. The floor was sticky in a few places, and the lino disgracefully scuffed and torn.

The fact that there were boxes of pamphlets and posters, a box of costumes and wigs, a dozen sets of playing cards with the venue's branding on them, and a few half-empty tins of paint and a roller, suggested it was a room no one bothered to use for anything other than the storage of old junk. The couch was stiff in places, and had a strange smell to it. There was a large gash in the back, as if someone had ripped it open in some sort of drunken rage.

All in all, it seemed like the right sort of neglected spare room to fuck in, and Chas took little time to rid himself of his stage clothes. It hardly mattered that they got dirty now; they were already stinking from sweat from the night's show, and thankfully, they had time to get them cleaned before their next show.

Julian was pushed down onto the couch, which wasn't as comfortable as it looked, as Chas finished throwing off the last of his silvery clothes. Straddling Julian's hips, Chas ran his hands up his chest as he kissed him, glad to be on their own at last.

"I get such a buzz from being out there, you wouldn't believe, man. Now I just wanna fuck you senseless," Chas said, grinding slowly against him.

"You would be the only person I know who gets horny from performing," Julian said, holding his hips loosely.

"You've got nothing to complain about, mister. You get to stare at my cute arse the whole time," Chas said, wiggling his arse as he spoke for a better effect.

"Well, it would be a problem if I knew you weren't going to take me backstage and ravish me so soon after we're done. You are going to get started at some point, yes?" Julian said.

"Oh, shut up. Lemme get to work," Chas said.

Julian nipped his neck. Chas nipped him back. Julian stroked his cock as Chas grinded against him. Chas was intent on frustrating Julian to the point he would give in, and it hardly took as long as he'd anticipated. Chas soon found himself shifted off Julian's lap and pinned down into the couch. He grinned up at him and licked his cheek.

"Well? Now that you've got me all naked and hard, I suggest you do something about it," Chas said.

Julian didn't waste any energy on a reply. He was already busy lubing Chas up as he rummaged around in his discarded clothes for a rubber. Chas' head sunk back into the couch as Julian slowly pushed inside. Finally. Chas didn't even mind the way Julian was holding his legs up. It was hard to care about anything else as Julian began to thrust a little faster, working off his arousal.

* * *

Charles had to stop himself laughing as he watched the Mutant Love Dolls and their extravagant entrance. It wasn't that it was particularly lame. It was just so epic and awesome it was hard to not get carried away by it. Craig had taken off his heels along the way and held them loosely in his hand as he watched, standing a little behind Charles.

"Aww, shit, look at that! Man, that must cost a fortune!" Charles said, marvelling at the huge crescent moon that was being lowered down a little, carrying with it an evil looking but rather short witch, a much taller demon and a werewolf. Say what you liked about the Mutant Love Dolls, they knew how to do a spectacle. They could also afford extras.

"You know, I'm not sure I'd have picked them for a horror theme, but they make it work," Craig said as the band emerged from behind a large stone prop.

"It's hardly horror, come on. Others were doing horror well before them, and doing it better," Charles said.

"Hard to argue with that though," Craig said as Kitty Roxx was carried out wearing something Craig had only ever seen in a very small selection of hardcore fetish clubs.

Charles had to concede his point. Whatever else Kitty was, she was the true love doll of the band, and her fetish theme had been taken to places no other metal band had even conceived of. The sexual energy of the show, and the way she interacted with Jeffie was what made it work, even if the more conservative critics panned them as obscene pornographic nonsense. It was a label Kitty seemed to revel in.

At one point, the witch came down from the moon and attempted to put a spell on Kitty, but all Kitty had to do was seduce her and the crowd was hers. A searing kiss, a bright spotlight, and then darkness. Even Charles gasped at the audacity and sheer eroticism of it.

"She's never done that before. When did they change their act to include that?" Charles said, raising his voice so he could be heard over the crowd, who were even more feral than before.

"Search me. Can't argue with its popularity, though. They're going nuts out there," Craig said.

"Mate, they'd go nuts if they decided to don fairy wings and prance about to classical music. They fuckin' love anything they do. Can't do no wrong and all that shit," Charles said.

"Oh, come on, you pretend you hate them but I know you love them just like I do. You really shouldn't wind them up so much. They've kicked bands off tour for less. Be thankful they decided to take us overseas with them. I reckon you've been shagging Kitty behind our backs. I can't think of another reason why we're this lucky," Craig said.

"I take it as a sign someone likes me too much to tell me to fuck off, and pay for our travel. Plus, no one can rev those bastards up like I can," Charles said.

"We can, Charles. Do remember you're part of a band," Craig said.

"Yeah, you know what I meant. Fuckin' hell, she's insane. Look at that! Maybe we should hire extras so they can do that on stage with us," Charles said as the demon and the werewolf began their own sordid flirtation in front of the drum kit. The werewolf was gyrating above the demon and, well, it hardly took much imagination after that.

Craig wrapped his arms around Charles' shoulders as he watched them. "Honey, you do know those two are together, don't you? You've clearly missed a few of their shows. They've been doing that for months."

Charles leaned back into his embrace as Craig pressed a soft kiss to his neck. "Hmm, since when did you find that out? You been gossiping again?"

"No more than usual. You need to go to more after parties, rather than skulking off alone. You're missing all the fun," Craig said.

"Well, I will now, since you've informed what I'm missing out on," Charles said.

Craig leant in close to whisper in his ear. "I think we should leave them and their feral crowd and take some time for ourselves. Gotta get ready for the after party, and you are not going dressed like that."

Charles turned to face him and couldn't help stealing a quick kiss. "Well then, we'd better go smarten up."

* * *

On the couch in the neglected storeroom, Chas lay draped over Julian, enjoying the relative silence. The need to fuck had passed and now they just lay together, Chas tangling his fingers loosely with Julian's.

"Just so you know, I ain't moving," Chas murmured.

"Uh huh, sure you aren't," Julian replied.

Chas sighed. "Well, I'm not. You're more comfortable than that couch."

"And how do you think I feel? I reckon we should move. I, for one, do not wish to wake up here tomorrow morning. I don't think I've slept in a hotel room that's as scungy as this," Julian said.

"Good thing we're not paying for it then." Chas tried not to laugh too much as Julian began wriggling underneath him in a bid to dislodge him. Chas took the hint. "Alright, alright, we'll move. No need to get stroppy."

Chas got to his feet, extracting himself from Julian's embrace and began picking out his clothes from amongst the pile that had accumulated against the wall. Julian remained lying on the couch while Chas dressed, forcing Chas to pull him to his feet in order to get him moving again.

"Come on, lard arse. You were the one who wanted to move, remember?" Chas said.

"I know, alright? Gimme a minute. Anyone'd think I didn't satisfy you," Julian said.

Chas pouted adorably. "But one go is never enough, not with you."

Julian smiled and kissed him as he finished dressing. "And I'll be happy to oblige when we're not lying in some wreck of a room."

"You're such a killjoy," Chas said. "Come on then, let's get out of here."

* * *

The afterparty was held in the Love Dolls' million dollar limousine as it cruised the streets looking for clubs that would let them in. The Love Dolls were there, changed into even skimpier finery, along with anyone else who wasn't busy elsewhere. Dom had reappeared, and was perfectly content to take martinis off Chas, who was far too good at making them for someone who didn't drink.

Kitty was sprawled over the witch, Jeffie and her husband as she sipped drinks while gazing adorably as Charles. The werewolf and the demon were busy in the back. Craig had taken an interest in Dylan, just for the sake of variety, and was busy trying to outflirt everyone else. Dylan was perfectly happy to oblige. Craig had changed into another dress, one more suited to clubbing, and his heels were particularly fetching, even if they had been borrowed from his stage wardrobe.

They stopped outside a club just as Kitty began her fourth martini. Everyone piled out onto the footpath, ignoring the line of people outside as they approached the bouncer. Whatever it was Kitty did, and it was never clear, they were allowed in, and she gestured for everyone to follow.

The club was dark and had loud music greeting them. It appeared to have some sort of gothic theme, as there were ugly gargoyles, tombstones, and skeletons everywhere. The walls were a deep red and the floor was tiled with what looked like slate, stained from use. It reminded Charles of a rather terrible themed restaurant he had gone to when he was a kid. It was hard to complain about the décor when he was approached by a rather busty vampiress in what amounted to a bikini and a cape and offered a Bloody Mary.

* * *

It was the first of many, many drinks that night. Chas lost count of how many clubs they went to, just that those still standing had been invited back to the Love Dolls' penthouse suite, an offer that was ridiculously impossible to refuse. It took up the entire top floor of whatever hotel they were staying in and it was gigantic, and very well kitted out.

With so much space, no one felt particularly crowded. They all started in the bedroom before others slowly disappeared. Chas didn't let Julian get away and dragged him off to some relatively secluded part of the suite to fuck him again.

They found some smaller bedroom and it was all they needed. It was more comfortable than the couch they'd had back at the venue where they'd played. Chas coaxed Julian onto the bed and kissed him, not wishing to move for as long as possible.

* * *

Charles almost regretted it the next morning. He woke to find he was lying on a carpeted floor somewhere. It took a little longer to realise he was lying on top of someone else. Struggling to get to his feet involved pressing hard against someone's back and they groaned irritatingly as he did so.

Charles blinked and looked down. Jeffie was sprawled on his stomach, stark naked. He appeared to mumble something incoherent before waving a hand at him and going back to sleep. Charles turned his gaze to the rest of the room. It appeared to be a hotel room, and a rather grand one at that. A moment of thought helped him remember it was Kitty's luxurious penthouse suite. There appeared to be three female bodies on the bed, their bodies tangled together. Another woman was curled down the end of the bed, half covered with a robe.

Scratching his head in confusion, he stepped over a couple more bodies and headed into the next room. This must be one of the best rooms in whatever hotel it was they were in. In that second room was the kitchen and a small lounge. No one appeared to be around until Charles went to look at the couch and found Julian and Chas lying in each other's arms, fast asleep.

Then he noticed the werewolf and the demon were engaged in rather passionate kissing as they sat together in an armchair. They didn't notice him and he didn't see the point in interrupting them. Figuring there was no one else to talk to, Charles went to the kitchen to see if there was any food around. Finding nothing but Fruit Loops and Kahlúa, Charles almost wanted to call for room service, but he was hardly thinking straight, not after such a big night out. To be fair, Charles did hesitate a moment before combining the two, but he was far from sober enough to care. Taking his meal, he sat on a couch and switched the TV on, quite pleased with how life was at that present moment.

A pair of arms slipped around his neck and Charles looked up to see Craig smiling down at him sleepily. They shared a kiss and Craig climbed over the couch to sit beside him. He looked at what Charles was eating and decided against asking about it. Instead, he reached down to grab the throw rug that had somehow found its way to the floor and pulled it over him.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Charles said.

"Nah, I was waking up anyway. You as shit tired as I feel?" Craig said as he settled down beside him.

"Why do you think I'm eating this shit?" Charles said, gesturing to his breakfast.

"I wasn't going to ask about that. Now shut up. I'm gonna sleep a little more. Then you can order me some decent breakfast," Craig said.

Charles stroked his hair gently as he drifted off. It was nice having him there. He finished his breakfast and left the bowl on the coffee table. He shifted Craig over and shared his rug as they both drifted off to sleep again. Life was grand indeed.


End file.
